Shades of Gray
by Darlin
Summary: AU. Ororo & Logan are strangers who keep meeting in the most unusual manner. A series of misunderstandings send both of them reeling. Is he really the stalker she thinks he is or is he just a poor, smitten, delivery man who has to do his job? The cowardly Charles & his lady love Lilandra, Ororo's bosses, are little help but they try.
1. Part One

**Shades of Gray – by Darlin**

**Disclaimer** – I don't own or make any profit from the Marvel characters depicted herein.

**xox**

**Part One**

Working as a secretary for the up and coming modeling agency called simply X had its perks. When the short heavily muscled man came in with the wild looking hair and the even wilder look in his dark blue eyes Ororo Munroe nearly choked on her morning coffee.

"Hey, how you doing? Where do you want them?" he asked as he heaved a heavy box on his massive shoulder looking around for a place to sit it.

"What are they?" she asked, eying him curiously.

"I didn't make the order, just delivering it. That's my job."

"Ah."

"What the . . .?" he thought as he observed the intriguingly looking woman and then, aloud – "Look, this box is pretty heavy, where do you want me to put it?"

She could think of a number of responses but none of them appropriate.

"Come on lady . . ."

My, he's rude, she thought. The image matched the persona – too bad.

"Here," she said, pointing at the floor beside her desk.

As he bent to the task she swiveled slightly in her chair, lifting up on the top of her toes just enough to get a view of his backside. Nice and tight, she mused appreciatively.

"Sign here," he said when he stood, removing an electronic clipboard from the top of the box and handing it to her.

"Thanks," she said, returning the board to him after signing.

"Pleasure's all mine," he said with a grin that made her start.

"Not hardly," she thought as she watched him saunter out of the office.

Rough but good looking, fine build, if she were the whistling type she would've had her fingers in her mouth giving the loudest cat call in history. That was one fine piece of man walking out the door rude or not.

"What am I thinking?" she said out loud. "I work for a modeling agency! After your man, Ororo!"

But he was gone when she got outside. Gone as if he'd never been there. Weird. Parking in New York wasn't the easiest and he would have had to have transportation, a truck, something. And here she was thinking she'd discovered the next Fabio.

**xox**

Not one of the pin up girls on the calendar in the locker room at work could match the white haired lady he'd just made a delivery to. Logan Howlett wished he'd had the nerve to ask her name if nothing else. Her signature was so bad he really wasn't sure what to make of the swiggly O and r's or n's but you could never make out names out of the ordinary on the electronic board they used nowadays. It didn't matter. A fine looking woman like that, high class, high quality like that would never give him the time of the day. She'd just let him stand around holding the heaviest package he'd had to deliver all day. She was rude, probably selfish; she wouldn't have given him the time of the day if he'd begged. But knowing that didn't keep him from thinking about her.

It was dark when she left the office. He knew because he was waiting for her but not where she could see him. He had no intention of approaching her. He just wanted to see her again. And there she was, tall, too tall really but those legs, a mile and a half long, the strappy stilettos only made them sexier. He'd wear lifts in his cowboy boots twenty-four seven if that's what he had to do to get to those lips of hers. And they were lusciously full without a lot of lipstick, not a lot of makeup on her beautiful face either. He liked that.

Simplicity is what he thought when he remembered her throughout the day. Maybe adding anything more to the blue eyes and white hair and brown skin would be overkill and she knew it. He'd never seen a woman like that before or at least not a young woman. She had to be in her late twenties, several decades younger than him but what did that matter? He was only going to look a bit not touch.

**xox**

Not normally paranoid Ororo still took proper precautions while walking home whether it was late or not. Tonight she'd felt someone was following her. Every time she glanced back she saw nothing out of place, nothing strange and yet she had that feeling you get when you know someone's watching you. Her right hand was on her pepper spray, her left hand on her cell phone. But nothing happened.

Once inside her apartment building she leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. That had to be the silliest she'd ever acted since moving to New York. Just what she needed an over active imagination. Of course an over active imagination could get a girl a good nights rest too, she thought. First a hot shower and then a glass of wine and she'd pile into her down feather mattress and dream about the stud that got away. It would've been fun to have discovered him, pity that.

Fantasies turned into dreams and as her stomach grumbled for lack of food she smiled in her sleep. Sometimes if she thought of something hard enough she would dream about it. She had a lot of sweaty dreams about her favorite movie stars and more often than not they were in a hot tub or on the beach alone and . . .

"What the . . . ?"

There it was again, a noise – as if someone was at the front door? So she wasn't crazy someone actually had followed her home and now they were trying to break in.

Okay, don't panic you're in control here, she told herself.

**xox**

The look on her face when the she opened the door was as priceless as the look on his face. Why he'd done what he had he didn't know. He hadn't meant any harm but the police had him pinned up against the wall, handcuffed and waiting for her to make a statement. He'd only been trying to knock or rather working up the nerve to knock just a little louder. All right, yes it was kind of creepy and stalker like, one reason he hadn't knocked any louder. Really, he knew he'd arrest himself too. What kind of man stalks a beautiful woman right up to her apartment door? Not a sane man, he knew that much. And what did you say once you were face to face with the woman you were stalking?

"Hi, I followed you home – I mean I just wanted to get to know you better – to ask you out is all. I didn't mean – it's not what it looks like."

The looks the police and Ororo gave him after he spoke were just what he deserved. He couldn't believe he'd made a confession as lame and as honest as that. Why couldn't he come up with something more sensible? Like, I was looking for a friend or, oh what was the use? He was in handcuffs for crying out loud!

"Ma'am, do you know this man?"

"I . . . uh . . . not really."

"Do you want to press charges or what?"

"You can get a restraining order if you think it's necessary," the female cop said with what Ororo thought looked to be a hopeful look.

"I . . ."

"You don't need a restraining order, Miss I was just looking for my friend's apartment, he lives in the neighborhood. I must've gotten the buildings mixed up."

"Okay, buddy you just gave us two different stories which is it gonna be?"

The look on their faces told him he was in too deep. She didn't do anything to stop them from taking him to the police station. He didn't blame her all that much but still, she could've said something! Told them yes she did know him because she did. Kind of.

**xox**

Last night was decidedly weird. Not quite as scary as she thought it would've been but weird all the same. How often did a delivery guy follow you home and then get taken away by the police? So much for sexy, rude, wild man. Remember next time that wild looking men are most likely just that, wild and completely unbalanced.

They laughed about it over coffee at the office, her boss and she but she was sure Charles looked at her a little differently after that. Just what she needed. He probably thought she was either a tease or a nut or maybe just mean spirited. But seriously, if Charles showed up at some woman's apartment that he didn't know and shouldn't have known where that apartment was wouldn't he expect to be carted off to the pokey without her saying a word otherwise?

Next time she decided and laughed at the thought – next time? Well, if there ever was a next time she would make sure she didn't tell Charles about it. Sometimes she just didn't know what to make of that man. He had great taste in picking America's next top models but the way he looked at you when you opened up – just weird. Oh well.

The new delivery man was skinny. With knobby knees. She didn't like knobby knees and hated men that looked emaciated. She liked meat on her men and if you were going to be delivering goods to a modeling agency she expected the delivery men to look their best kind of in between the guy from The King of Queens and the short wild and scruffy stalker dude.

Yeah, right, she thought when he winked at her. As if you stood a chance. Put some long pants on and eat an energy bar.

Common sense told her not to but after the frail looking delivery man left she simply felt compelled to call his company.

"I want them hot and spankable from now on," she thought she'd say but instead she asked if the delivery guy from yesterday was working today.

She hung up when they said yes. Brilliant. Now he'd have a real good idea she'd called and how would that look? At least she hadn't asked what his name was.

**xox**

So, she called. That had to mean she wasn't as cold hearted as he'd thought she was. He'd been lucky they didn't toss him in a cell for the night what with the way that lady police officer kept looking at him. She'd taken her sweet time giving him a thorough frisking too. He was still burning over that. He'd felt out of control, totally in her command while she cupped his privates and felt him up smiling evilly all the while.

Broads! Who needed them? But still, she had to be worried about him why else call his job? Could be a good thing or really, really bad. She might be worried if he was free how she was going to get home tonight. He'd really screwed up. Big time. Insert mouth after kicking self.

The skinny kid who'd taken his route that morning came back looking like he'd fallen in love. He would've swooned if he'd been a girl, Logan thought with derision. He didn't have to hear what the kid had to say he already knew. He'd seen the tall white haired chick, stacked and gorgeous. Yeah, he knew.

"Man, I'll do your route every day from here on out."

"I'm good but thanks for covering for me today kid."

"Any time. Man, that woman at the modeling agency, she was smoking!"

"Dame like that wouldn't give you the time of the day, kid."

"I . . ."

"Can it will you? I got the rest of your packages to deliver.

**xox**

She half expected to be followed again but she'd taken extra precautions and left early. Charles wasn't quite pleased but his partner Lilandra, being a female, let her go. Ororo suspected that Lilandra was always so nice to her because she still hoped to get her in front of the camera but Ororo didn't want to be in the spot light any more than she already was which was too much already.

Why was it that men always followed her or did stupid things to get her attention? The skinny kid was standing outside bobbing his head up and down to his iPod as people streamed past. Was he seriously waiting for her? She turned around and went back inside. It had to be the hair. If she could dye her very delicate white hair she would have done so years ago but nope the dye did horribly cruel things to her hair. Green was not particularly flattering to her skin tone.

"I thought you were leaving early."

Charles. Just whom she did not want to see right now – always so serious, seriously annoying. Men.

"I'm being stalked."

"Again?"

"New guy."

"Really?" Lilandra asked. She looked out the window but there were so many people passing by she didn't notice the young man. "Who?"

This was too embarrassing.

"I'm just kidding. Charles, I'm far too dedicated to walk out on you when you need me," Ororo said as she plopped down into her chair ready to continue working.

"Good, we were just putting the finishing touches on the reality show we're planning but we still need a name. See if anyone's still at the Hanover Agency or get me the Millie Collins agency or better still call Millie at home if necessary."

"How about Ororo's Odyssey; a Stalkee's real life ordeal?"

"Stalkee?" Charles asked. "Is that even a word?"

"Ha. Ha. Ha," Ororo deadpanned.

. . . And just so they didn't think she was crazy the burly little guy was standing outside the office when they left late that night, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Was he reaching for a weapon?

"Wait! Wait!" Logan shouted when the older man raised his fists and circled him in an old fashioned pugilist stance.

"Look, I'm calling the cops right now," Lilandra said, fingers flickering fast over the numbers of her cell phone.

"I am not losing my mind," Ororo muttered.

"Or your appeal either, darling," Lilandra remarked as she waited for the connection.

"It isn't what it looks like – really!" Logan barked.

"Then what are you doing here?" Ororo asked.

"I came to tell you – the other night, it was all a misunderstanding."

"An apology should start with the words 'I'm sorry'," Lilandra informed him. "Hello, 911? We have a stalker harassing an employee of ours."

"Look lady please don't call the cops I'm leaving already all right?"

"Leave now before I pummel you within an inch of your life cretin," Charles said, taking a swipe three feet short of his target.

Logan looked Charles up and down. He was an elderly gentleman with no hair and bushy eyebrows. He imagined one whiff of his breath would keel the old codger over especially since he'd been drinking all evening at the bar across the street. He shook his head and walked off.

"We really must get at least one photo shoot from you, Ororo," Lilandra said, "No, I'm not talking to you. Oh, I'm sorry kind customer service representative but the stalker's gone. No. No, everything's fine now that my partner threatened to pummel him within an inch of his life – seriously – we're make sure our secretary gets home safely. Thank you so much. Oh, you have a good night too."

**xox**

When the police didn't show up the next day at his job he figured he was safe. She wasn't going to press charges. That was good. The skinny kid took his morning route again. That was bad. He wouldn't be able to see her again now. That was bad but he couldn't risk having them call the cops on him again. That would be very bad. Three times and it starts to look a little suspicious.

He sill hadn't explained to his boss why he would have to give up one of the best routes they had but he couldn't see any other way out of it. If he ever went back to the modeling agency he was sure the police would escort him home, home being to a jail cell. All because of a white haired witch. And he definitely meant witch. She'd cast some kind of spell on him.

This would've been a joking matter if it wasn't so serious and it was so serious because she was drop dead gorgeous and he couldn't stop thinking about her. He wondered if she would work late tonight. No, he wasn't going to play stalker again but he didn't want anyone else to either. The kid from work had told him he'd waited all evening for her but she worked so late he gave up and went home. Did he really think he stood a chance with her? Logan thought the kid needed a serious reality check.

So he wanted to make sure she got home safe. That was all it was. That wasn't wrong. It wasn't being stalkerish – was that even a word? – to make sure she got home in one piece was it?

Of course being discovered when you're trying to be sneaky makes it look like you're a stalker he decided when he got a shot of pepper spray in his face. It didn't burn so much as eat away at his face like he imagined acid would. Bright idea. The kick to the groin and a heel raked down his shin didn't make him feel any better. Those stiletto's hurt.

The sound of sirens nearby had him sprinting off into the night blindly sure they were coming for him. He didn't see the taxicab when he ran out in front of it. From bad to worse he thought; his last thought before he succumbed to the pain.


	2. Part Two

**Shades of Gray – by Darlin **

**Part Two**

**xox**

I'm telling you the show should be all about you, Ororo," Lilandra laughed after the skinny delivery guy came in later that week looking appropriately love struck, stuttering when spoken to and tripping over his feet when he left.

"How boring would that be?"

"Not so boring if you were an aspiring model. Ororo, you must give it some thought. Charles agrees with me and he's not been wrong about any of our models."

Their models? They had signed only two women and one man so far but several catalogue companies loved them.

"You're so striking the show would be an immediate success," Lilandra went on.

"I suppose a camera crew _could_ help him beat up the stalkers."

"Ha!"

"I'm sure this package isn't ours – yet again. What's wrong with that kid?"

"If only there were other delivery companies in the city," Lilandra sighed.

"There are."

"But they all fall for you so it hardly matters which company's delivering does it? Besides, we've no control over our international clientele. We can't possibly tell them not to use what is usually a very reliable and responsible service, now can we?"

International clientele? Ororo sometimes wondered what drugs Lilandra was on but now the poor delivery guy was back.

"Can I help you?" Ororo asked.

The ice cold voice she'd used only made the kid stutter worse not turn around and flee for his life as she'd hoped.

"I . . . I left . . . um . . ."

"You realized you left the wrong package again, is that what you're trying to say?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. Sorry."

"Lift your shirt up."

"Huh?"

"Lift . . . your . . . shirt – go on. Higher."

The women watched the skinny youth pull his shirt tail out of the belted shorts and lift it as Ororo had directed.

"Nope, that won't do. Thank you. Goodbye."

"Huh?"

"I said . . . _good bye_."

"Oh, might I train with the master?" Lilandra said giving a mock bow after the poor boy fled without the package.

"Sometimes cruel honesty is the only thing that gets through to them."

"So true."

**xox**

Even in jail he thought about her. He'd had a broken rib, some cuts and bruises but nothing to keep him out of jail for the night after he got bandaged up at the emergency room. He cursed the day he'd ever met her. The funny part about all of it was that he'd never really met her. He still hadn't been able to ascertain what her name was exactly. They'd never been properly introduced. He hadn't even been able to work up the nerve to say anything that wasn't anything other than defensive. He could say he'd been too overcome by her beauty but sitting in a jail cell gave you plenty of time to think and he knew that wasn't what had happened. He was a sucker. Not a stalker mind you just your basic idiot. Not the first time either but never so badly as this.

When he got out of jail, she hadn't press charges, he vowed he'd never step foot on the same street as the modeling agency and that was saying something because he knew he could hardly avoid Seventh Ave, nevertheless he'd give it a good try. He was sore – his whole body – too sore to work for a few days or longer if he had any sense. He realized he had very little.

Work put beer in the belly so back to work he went. Work meant stepping foot on the Seventh, he couldn't feasibly avoid the street. It meant passing by that big glass window seeing her lovely face nearly every single day. He just couldn't do it for the rest of his life. He either had to get a different job or find a different obsession. He chose the latter.

**xox**

At first she felt guilty whenever she saw the brightly colored delivery trucks. She'd quite successfully gotten rid of two of their drivers. Not such a bad thing since they both were annoying, one a stalker, but not a very good thing when you considered it was someone's livelihood after all. She felt like a bitch. But where did compassion come in when you were being stalked?

Anytime a delivery man came in now she was always polite, never smiled but never ignored them either. She had learned to control herself if they were good looking, as the stalker had been. It was akin to acting, look at them politely, speak politely. She was sure that's what the allure had been before. Ignoring them had angered them or turned their heads enough that their brains had become addled. She found that the frail ones were always discouraged when she had them lift their shirts. None of them refused though. That surprised her. She never understood why men, even particularly thin ones, were so quick to strip. Sex she supposed – hoping to score possibly? A woman would never do that. Well, not most. She surely wouldn't. Lift my shirt? What? She'd sue so fast they wouldn't know what had hit them. Rot in hell. All men. She was sick of them.

"Lift your shirt."

Now there was a nice chest. Nice face too. The scar over his right brow only made him look more attractive in that dangerous sexy way. Yes, he would do all right. Cocktail hour here we come.

"Like what you see?"

Oh no he didn't! The cocky son of a . . .

"Oh, you're not quite what we're looking for but we'll call if we get a shoot that would suit you. Thank you." Smile. Be polite. Keep it real but not flirty even if he does look like a plainer Tyrese with the body to match. Control.

It seemed to be working. No one was lurking around the front door or following her home and trying to get into her apartment. Why hadn't she thought of this before? She really thought she had been polite before but apparently her manners had been somewhat lacking. Etiquette 101, she'd missed that course. Control 101 she was excelling in.

**xox**

"Where do you want it?"

Where I always want it but can't have it, she thought and immediately felt like blushing. I'm such a slut. Ah well, fantasies, where would I be without them?

"Look, Lady I don't mean any disrespect and please don't call the cops on me I just want to leave the package, get your signature and go. I don't want any trouble."

"Oh . . . no."

It was him! The stalker. Apparently in disguise too. He had a baseball style cap in the bright colors of his company pulled low over his ruggedly face. Too late she recalled the restraining order a police officer had tried to convince her to get.

"Can I just put it down here and you can just sign this so I can get out of here?"

She found herself nodding. He remembered she liked the packages next to her desk and bent down to place it very carefully on the floor. She couldn't help but rise in her seat to enjoy the view and before she knew it words were leaving her mouth on their own accord.

"Lift your shirt."

"Huh?"

"Lift it. Your shirt. Now."

Incredibly he did so.

"Oh." She swallowed. He was everything and more than she'd dreamt of.

"Okay lady, we're even now."

"Not hardly," she managed to squeak out.

"Sign please."

If she didn't know any better she would swear she was having some kind of unassisted orgasm. Was that even possible?

"Okay," she gasped, signed and tried to catch her breath.

Crazy broad, he thought when he left.

**xox**

Vindicated? Not really. Safe? Possibly. But again he felt like he'd been taken advantage of. Weird. He never knew women had that kind of power but they did even when they didn't have a badge and they damn sure knew how to use it. Lift my shirt? It didn't matter how pretty she was she was obviously nuts which would explain a whole hell of a lot. The police, the pepper spray, the beating, being hit by a car, spending a night in jail, causing him to almost lose his job.

He hadn't quite managed to stop thinking of her but neither had he started looking for a new job. He kept thinking about the way she looked when she'd seen his bare chest. It always brought a grin to his face. Yep, she wanted him. But then he'd catch himself. If she wanted him she'd had plenty of time to get him. She wanted him in jail that's what she wanted. Crazy broad. The pretty ones were always power crazy or snobs, never giving you the time of day.

New obsession, he remembered but knew there was nothing he could do. How did you find someone new to obsess about? Why would you? He meant why would you want to obsess over anything or anyone especially when it brought you nothing but trouble with a capital t and a capital r and a – you know the deal.

Nevertheless, he went to sleep smiling. Trouble sure came in a pretty package. He dreamt of hands on his chest. Hands with long red nails that curled under like something out of an old Asian movie or the chick at the fast food joint he'd gone to last night. It was her, X's receptionist, that was on him raking her nails over his chest and smiling and then it wasn't her but something that looked like its head was all white with only large oval black eyes and a goofy smile.

Casper? Yes, it was Casper the Friendly Ghost. That's who he'd dreamt of. What was that all about he wondered when he woke up in a cold sweat.

**xox**

"Any new stalkers?" Lilandra asked when she breezed into the office the next morning.

"Same old one," Ororo commented.

"Cute, young and skinny or handsome, old and ratty?"

"Handsome old and ratty. Old? Do you think he's old?"

"Older than you dear but a little cleaning up and we'd strike gold with that one. He may be far too short for runway work but I think he'll look quite scrumptious in front of the camera. Send him in when you see him next time; I'll have him lift his shirt for me."

"Already did that."

"And? Wait a minute! Ororo you naughty girl. Let's see – handsome, old and ratty the stalker came back to the scene of the crime and you asked him to lift his shirt and he _did_?"

"He did."

"My, my I must worship at your feet. What are you? How do you do it? You put him in jail and he's still coming around for more. I wish I could market whatever it is you have going for you besides the face, boobs – bod in general, hair and eyes, lips . . ."

"Lilandra.

"Hmm. Sorry but you have to admit it's . . . hmm, how can I put it? Strange!"

"I don't know. It was an impulse. After he did it for me he said we were even."

"I would expect so. But was he everything we imagined?"

"We?"

"Drool worthy, dear?"

"Very much so."

"Ah. Well, at least Charles wasn't around to box his ears although I imagine that would be quite difficult, it is rather hard if you can't get within a foot of your very virile opponent."

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

"Crazy how?"

"Crazy for . . . well, you know . . . making him show me his chest."

"Dear Ororo, don't you do that for all the men lately? And besides, if that was all you said and more – no. I'm only sorry I wasn't there to enjoy the view."

"Maybe next time."

"There will be a next time then? Hmm, Kinky."

**xox**

Twice he'd driven by the model agency while making other deliveries and once he'd been rewarded far beyond his expectations. She was standing on her desk reaching for something. Those legs! He barely missed a jaywalker and he barely checked to make sure the guy was okay as his head swung back for a second look but she was being helped down by some guy – the schmuck.

Okay he was officially crazy. Woman like that would have him by the balls, a firm grip too with every intention of never letting go, and there'd be nothing he could do about it. Women. Women! What had he been thinking? That's exactly what he needed – a real flesh and blood woman, someone to take his mind off of the one who had him by the balls even if it was just in his imagination. Someone to form a new obsession with. No. No, that wasn't right. He wasn't going to obsess over any woman but he'd find one to keep his mind off of the rude witch.

No such luck though. After work he tried a couple of bars. Too much make up, not enough clothes, too ugly, too pretty – yes there was such a thing – and the rest, not enough sense to carry on a decent conversation. Too much makeup meant high maintenance, he hated makeup, too few clothes meant too easy – in his book anyway, too ugly – he just couldn't go there, too pretty meant he'd be reminded of her and the pretty women were usually arrogant just like her, looking down on any man that wasn't pretty enough to be on the cover of GQ, and yes he did read GQ sometimes, and he definitely wasn't going to date a dumbbell. Maybe he needed a new strategy?

**xox**

When Charles kept her late again she groaned inwardly. She wondered if she told him she needed him to protect her from her stalker since she was working late if he'd panic and send her home early. Then he wanted to talk over drinks after they left. She was thankful for the ride home they'd give her afterwards even if a drunken Lilandra wasn't her favorite person to be around but she didn't drive.

The bar was full of attractive wannabe movie stars and models. The three of them went there sometimes with an eye out for the next discovery. It was just across the street, easily accessible.

Their eyes met an instant when she surveyed the room from the entrance. Her blue eyes squinted ever so slightly as her mouth tightened. It looked like she was giving him the finger or was she trying to tell him she was calling the cops? He started to run but caught hold of himself. It was a free world, a free bar for that matter. He had every right to be there so he raised a hand, saluted her, mumbled something to his companion who was wearing the same uniform as he, and walked off as nonchalantly as he could manage, beer left behind untouched.

"Let's get this party started!" Lilandra murmured and dragged Charles and Ororo, who was self consciously smoothing her hair, to the bar. She hadn't seen him and Ororo was thankful for that.

Ororo suddenly felt like leaving. But not right away. Give him a little time to get away. She didn't want it to look like she was chasing him and she wouldn't be she just didn't want to stay. Her stomach felt upset. She wanted to go home. She didn't though. Stalkers can be cute, no law against that, but they were just as deadly as the ugly stalkers and she wasn't leaving until Charles and Lilandra were ready.

**xox**

Peering from around the corner after leaving the restroom he saw her sitting at the bar, those long brown legs crossed, one leg swinging in time with the music playing. Her toned thighs and shapely calves were calling to him – touch me, touch me! With certainty he realized he couldn't go back to work not if he had to keep making deliveries to her. Could he?

Second guessing himself wasn't his style. What was wrong with him? She was just a woman. And he was a man. A man acting like a kid. He had no real friends just buddies at work, no life, no goals. What was he doing with his life? He couldn't stop thinking about a woman that he couldn't even figure out what her name was. What was Orro or Onnoo? It was too long to be Ono. Why couldn't she print instead of using fancy cursive writing totally illegible? Why would he want a woman who couldn't write her name legibly? Because, looking at her, watching her as she walked home yet again several nights later, he knew she was the only woman he wanted.

It had to be understood he was not a stalker. He wasn't. He just happened to be in the neighborhood when she came home. He hadn't followed her just wanted to make sure she got home all right because it was late; too late for a pretty woman walking the streets by herself. She was stupid like that he knew but stupid ignorant not ditzy stupid. She didn't act dumb. He hated dumb women. She just walked home alone so any man could have his way with her. Ignorant stupid.

Now if he could only work up the courage to approach her. Not in a threatening way this time. Pepper spray hurt. But in some way to make her see he wasn't what she thought he was. He could act like he was walking past and just happened to run into her and say something like – Hey, what's up. No. Maybe – Hey, I didn't know you'd be out so late. No. How about:

"Hi, my name's Logan. We got off on the wrong foot . . ."

Which she promptly stomped and raised her own to do more damage as her piercing scream threatened to puncture his eardrums. Nothing ever worked like it was supposed to. He ran as she was taking off a stiletto to strike him. Again. Hitting, running. This was getting old.


	3. Part Three

**Shades of Gray – by Darlin **

**Part Three**

**xox**

Blood red. He knew that's the color he was when he went to work the next day. No one would take his route either. They'd all heard horror stories from the other drivers. The only one that would, the big muscled guy with a scar over one eyebrow who claimed to look like some movie star slash singer slash model who Logan could care less about said he was tired of showing her his chest when she wouldn't show him hers. So then she _was_ crazy Logan decided, asking anyone off the street to show her their chest. Somehow that made him angry and worse than that, slightly jealous. When she'd asked him to raise his shirt he'd thought she was crazy but secretly he'd felt she liked him plus he lifted weights, his chest was fifty inches give or take a few, massive and well developed how could she not like that?

Take the package in – how many packages did they get a week anyway? This was getting ridiculous. Just walk in, put it down – What things did a modeling agency need anyway? Maybe he could find some way to get the people who delivered packages to the agency to use another service? Back out slowly. Maybe he could forge her signature, couldn't be that hard, a few squiggly lines totally illegible ought to do it. If he could get out without being seen . . . He couldn't believe he was thinking like this. Imprisoned for forgery, that's all he needed. This woman was going to be the death of him.

Nevertheless he was almost out the door before she looked up. Her friend looked up too, the same woman from the night the little bald guy tried to defend them. She cocked her head a little as she stared at him, looking him up and down with appraising eyes. The rude one just stared, mouth wide open – looking sexy. Damn her.

"You . . . um . . . you . . ."

Oh, this was all he needed. He was now reduced to sputtering like an incoherent fool.

"My, you're a ballsy one aren't you?" Lilandra said with a shrewd look.

That or stupid, Logan and Ororo both thought.

"Or you're stupid," Lilandra added.

"I . . . you need to sign."

Don't hang your head bub, he told himself and immediately lifted his head to stare the lady in the eye. He couldn't look at Ororo.

"I hear you attacked Ororo again last night."

"What? No!"

"That's right there will be no more of that! I've taken the liberty to call in a few favors with a friend who's a lawyer, a very competent lawyer I might add, and Matt assures me that he can obtain a temporary restraining order immediately under the circumstances and since we know where you work you can expect to receive your summons for the hearing within ten days is that understood?"

"Look, ma'am . . ."

"Ma'am? Ma'am! Did he just call me ma'am?"

"Lilandra please." Ororo moaned.

"Do I _look_ like somebody's mother?"

"Look, lady, Miss, I didn't mean anything! I was just trying to be polite."

"A polite stalker, indeed! Somehow I find that disturbing. Ma'am, may I please follow you home? No, sir I think you were not trying to be polite! Ororo, did you once hear him ask you politely could he follow you home and then enter your abode without your permission? No," she said when Ororo, face buried in her hands, shook her head, "I thought not!"

"Look, I don't want any trouble all you have to do is sign this and I can go."

With her elbows on her desk Ororo peeked out through the lattice of fingers. Damn him. He was too good looking even now when he looked scared to death. A rat finally trapped.

"What is your name, sir? Oh, no you don't! Remove your hand from your name tag this instant!"

Logan had instinctively covered his name tag and was looking around thinking to make a quick escape when the door to the street opened.

"Ororo, did FOX return my call yet?" Charles asked as he entered. He tossed his hat in the direction of the hat rack but it sailed past missing it altogether. "A fellow could use telekinesis," he muttered as he stooped to pick it up.

"Charles! You've saved us! Here! Here is the villain that has been stalking our Ororo!"

"What? You! Oh dear."

If Logan had thought he'd turned two different shades of red earlier this morning it was nothing compared to Charles who turned beet red and then quickly lost all color altogether turning so ghastly white he looked ill.

"I'm out of here," Logan muttered as he shoved past Charles.

"Now see here . . .!" Charles cried, catching hold of Ororo's desk as he leaned as far away from Logan as he could, and then when Logan was safely out the door he shook his fist in the air and bellowed, "That's it, run!" He straightened up and adjusted his tie, swallowed once, twice, cleared his throat and then gave the women a confident nod. "Had he stayed a moment longer I would have thrashed him royally!"

"That's right, Charles dear," Lilandra said.

"Humph! He won't be back now," Charles said with an assertive nod.

"Because your commanding, take charge attitude totally terrified him," Lilandra said dryly. "Sit down, Charles you don't look well."

"It's a hot day – hot! Humid and hot. The air's so thick. I can hardly breathe. Just need a moment to catch my breath. Why if he hadn't left so quickly and I wasn't suffering from heat exhaustion I would have pummeled him within an inch of his life."

"There, there dear. Sit down, Ororo get some water for our hero."

"Water! No, no, I just need to catch my breath. Give me a moment and I'll go after the brigand!"

"Brigand eh?"

"But . . . um . . . a cool bottle of water would be welcomed, Ororo," Charles said with a hopeful look at his secretary.

"We really must look into doing a reality show with Ororo don't you think Charles? We could reenact everything, all of what's happened so far. 'Our Ororo' sounds catchy don't you think?"

Ororo buried her face in her hands again.

**xox**

Even though he knew he shouldn't he couldn't help himself. It might be the last time he could see her. He just wanted to watch her. He was beginning to feel incredibly very much like a stalker. He wondered if there was a stalker manual. He should read it, could save him a lot of misery. How to avoid being caught. If caught, how to avoid being sprayed with pepper spray, if caught by the police and being perfectly innocent how to lie your way out of prison.

It was uncanny but sure enough that night she showed up at the bar he'd seen her at before. The three of them. The older lady laughing and talking while Ororo looked around the bar hesitantly. He knew she was looking for him but he was well hidden. The bald guy looked pale and indignant. He'd like to wipe that indignant look off his face.

It was time to rectify all the wrongs that had been committed, hers as well as his. He fully expected an apology from her after he explained everything. And this was the place to do settle matters. She couldn't very well attack him here and everyone would see he wasn't trying to attack _her_. Well, except the two idiots with her.

Maybe after he'd straightened this mess up he'd be free of her and could live in peace. Maybe he'd even be able to look at other women and not compare them to this crazy female. And maybe he'd be able to actually get another woman, someone who would appreciate that he didn't want them walking home alone, just wanted her to be safe even if it was border line stalkerish. Was that a word? He'd have to look that up he decided.

**xox**

Working for a fledging model company had a lot of benefits. Besides the beautiful people that came in and out, sans the delivery guys, she worked for fairly understanding bosses. Charles liked her well enough and Lilandra, though never quite chummy with her, seemed to find her amusing. Droll was the word she used. She was paid well and she didn't mind doing the grunt work or the long hours but lately her life on display as if it were for her bosses' entertainment was becoming very annoying.

"The Brigand and the Model," Lilandra laughed after taking a long sip of her martini.

"A Model and her Stalker would sound better," Charles said in a huff.

"But brigand sounds so full of romance. What do you think, Ororo?"

"Hmm, Lilandra, consider this for a moment, we can't have the word stalker in the title, wouldn't work," Charles said before Ororo could reply. "We want them to be surprised by the stalker, it's not as if we could plan having Ororo stalked and of course we want it to be as natural as possible so having stalker in the title wouldn't do at all."

"You know I hadn't thought of that, how right you are dear I totally agree, which means the Brigand and the Model is out but what else can we call it? It must be catchy, something to capture the attention of the very impatient demographic group we're trying to reach. What do you think, Ororo?"

"I think I need another drink."

"Drinks!" Lilandra called out. "More drinks garson!"

"Garson?

"She means _gascon_ and no she most certainly does not need more drinks," Charles said, waving off the bartender.

"You, sir are an incorrigible, awful, awful man," Lilandra said.

"I'm sober and you are?"

"Drunk. Drunk as a skunk my dear Charles.'

"Sailor."

"Where?"

"Drunk as a sailor isn't it?"

"Right. That too."

"Well said. You do that so well."

"What?"

"Achieve drunkenness so quickly."

"It's a talent."

"Admirable."

"Ahem . . . excuse me."

"Oh, Charles it's him!"

"Him? Oh my! Wh – what do you want? I'll have you know this is a public place so there'll be no foolishness here!"

"I just want to explain a few things that's all," Logan said and he held out his hand in a simple gesture of peace.

But Charles, mistaking the extended hand's purpose, ducked to the side and brought his hands up over his head in alarm as if he thought he was going to be struck.

"I'm not here to fight with you I just want to talk. What's wrong with you people?"

"Very well. I will have you know I am a black belt in Karate."

"Oh? Black belt in Karate, eh? So, what style?" Logan asked, amused.

"Style? Oh, many. I've studied extensively in various Asian countries so should you try anything you have been duly warned. I can kill a man in one move."

"The ol' pull the heart out through the rib cage trick, eh? I learned that trick in Madripoor."

Charles paled considerably.

"You bully, leave my Charles alone! You've gone and scared him, my poor wittle baby," Lilandra said.

"Look, it's a public place. I'm not going to try anything, Miss. Can we just talk, the two of us?" Logan asked, turning to Ororo and ignoring Lilandra and Charles.

"No! Ororo will not go off into some dark corner to chat with her stalker. Do not think I have forgotten my threat! A restraining order has been issued and you sir had better leave now!"

His mouth fell. He looked more dejected than surprised and certainly not the threatening stalker they believed him to be. She felt bad for him. She needed help. Who in their right mind could feel for the man who kept attacking you?

"You heard Lilandra, now get out. And because I'm such a fair person I'll give you a running start before I call the police," Charles said.

"No, wait," Ororo interjected. "Don't call the police. I'm willing to listen to what you have to say."

Instinctively Logan took Ororo by the arm to lead her away. Of course he wasn't thinking and he knew he'd committed a fatal error as soon as his hand connected with her smooth skin. They both froze; his hand still on her arm. Only when she shivered did he let her go. He knew what was going to happen next.

"Call the police," he said throwing his arms up prepared to face his punishment. Punishment for a major case of stupidity!

He'd actually touched her. God, help him but she felt so soft. He wanted to touch her again even knowing he'd be spending a night in jail if he did. What's more, he knew she wanted to touch him too, the way she'd shivered. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had shivered at his touch. They stood together, very close, almost leaning towards each other, speechless but somehow connecting. It was a rush, for both of them, but neither of them quite understood it.

"An arresting development," Lilandra noted. "The chemistry between the two of you is so hot _I'm_ hot. Do you have any acting experience sir?"

"Lilandra! Will you please let us alone for one minute?"

"If you insist, dear but if all he needs is a minute he's not worth our time."

"Look lady I . . ." he faltered as he felt warm fingers caress his arm. It felt like a caress though all Ororo had done was touch him as he had her.

"Over here," she directed, leading him to the end of the bar nearest the exit.

Always keep your back to the wall and the exit close she thought as she did just that.

"So, we're finally alone," Logan said. His smile died when she gave him an alarmed look.

"And we're in a room full of witnesses!" she said.

"Lady I didn't mean anything like whatever you're thinking, I just want to clear this whole thing up. I know it looks bad but you gotta understand it wasn't anything like it looked."

"It looked like you were following me. Were you?"

"No. Well, yes but . . ."

"It looked like you were trying to get into my apartment. Were you?"

"No! I was just thinking about knocking and I started to – okay, I did knock but then I realized how it looked, me following you home and knocking on your door . . ."

"Not such a good idea, huh?"

"Sister, it was a mistake of a lifetime but look, I made a mistake like any other human – I'm here to apologize."

"Why were you following me?"

"You're beautiful," he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

Her face screwed up as she considered this then quickly discarded the compliment but she looked no less beautiful to him. He wanted to kiss her. She wanted him not to be the stalker he appeared to be.

"What were you going to do if I had let you in?" she asked, her fingers crossed behind her back hoping against hope despite knowing how foolish she was being.

"I don't know – just say hello and ask for your number I guess. I mean, I know it was stupid that's why I didn't knock, I mean again . . . um, any louder. I was going to leave – really – but you called the cops on me before I could get out of there."

"What did you expect?"

"I sure didn't expect that."

"I didn't expect to be followed and way laid by you."

"I didn't – all right lady. I made a fool out of myself cause I couldn't stop thinking about you I admit it but you don't have to worry about me any more, I'm finished. You treated me like any working stiff when I first saw you, you had no manners then and you barely got any now. You're just what I thought you were – a bitch."

A gasp left her lips and then she stepped back and threw her fist hard – as hard as she could in fact. When the police came this time she was the one put in handcuffs and stuffed inside the back of a squad car while they tried to sort things out. He was gone before they got there however, bloody nose and all.

_gascon_ - waiter

**xox**

Things weren't really working out for the X agency. Ororo's hand was bruised so badly she could barely type. Charles was not very understanding. A new business needed a reliable secretary/receptionist/assistant. Lilandra convinced him not to fire her. She was still intent on getting Ororo to do the reality show. Since America already had a top model show she felt they needed something with an edge.

It had been relatively easy to convince the police officer's that the instigator of the little altercation wasn't Ororo but the person they were in the process of getting a restraining order for though Lilandra hadn't actually asked her lawyer to do anything yet – the potential good material for the show was too appealing – but no need to tell the police she decided. It helped that the second police officer that arrived on the scene was the same female, C. Jones her name tag read, who had suggested getting the restraint in the first place.

It wasn't a good feeling being handcuffed. She didn't understand why they had to. She thought it was because she was a person of color, to put it nicely. She was sure it had nothing to do with the blood running down her hand and the uncooperative manner she'd greeted the police.

The nerve of that stalker. He'd called her the b word. Her! Ororo Munroe. She'd tried hard to be understanding but _no_ he just had to go off on her. She'd never once treated him less than nice, well except for the beatings and the pepper spray but he'd asked for that. She'd been fair and polite enough all things considered. She hadn't pressed charges had she? She wasn't even the one who sought the restraining order though she was all for it now.

Even though he'd said he was through with her she made a note to stock up on pepper spray before she went home.


	4. Part Four

**Shades of Gray – by Darlin **

**Part Four **

**xox**

So. It didn't look like he was going to be able to keep his job. He thought this as he looked in through the large glass window of the X agency while stopped in traffic. The crazy lady was in there as usual and despite a lot of activity in there he could see her easily from his high seat in the doorless truck. He knew he couldn't keep stalling till she went to the bathroom every time he had to deliver a package there. He could see himself lurking around the door peeking in every few minutes to see if she'd left. Now that would qualify as stalker behavior. Luckily he'd managed to get the guy who wanted to play show and tell with her to do his deliveries the last two days when he saw there were packages for X but the guy said the twenty dollars he gave him for each package wasn't worth it.

"She's changed – used to be nice now she looks at you with those ice cold eyes of hers like I'm dirt. Me! And she doesn't even want me to get naked for her any more," he'd said and added – "She's a psycho, man!"

Sooner rather than later he was going to have to look for another job. There were other delivery services he could apply with but he had a feeling they all would end up delivering there some time or another unless the modeling agency went out of business which was possible because he'd never once seen a real model while he was in there. It was a shame really, having to give up his job. He liked being his own boss. He wasn't really but he was in his truck doing his own thing, taking his time or rushing to get off early, it didn't matter because no one was on looking over his shoulder telling him what to do. He wasn't trapped inside some stuffy office; it was freedom, freedom he was losing because of some psycho woman.

In a strange twisted kind of way he would miss her more than the job. Seeing her had been all he'd thought about whether it was the anticipation of seeing her or worrying that she was going to call the police on him. Well, the stress would be gone if nothing else.

**xox**

This was incredibly uncomfortable, Ororo thought.

She was backed into a corner of the office near the filing cabinets and away from the large front window, a man's hands on her body his lips so close to hers she felt inclined to kick him in the balls. It was intriguingly arousing and yet terrifying and weird. It was nothing remotely like the short handsome delivery man had done to her. She hadn't seen him for days and wondered about him. A new guy had come, plain and non descriptive, someone easily ignored because he didn't seem to expect to be noticed. She liked that, liked him but she still thought about the stocky guy. Where was he?

This delivery man who had her backed up in the corner was handsome too but he was too tall for her – when did that happen? Was there ever such a thing as too tall?

"Thought you could get away from me did you, sweet thing?" the guy said in a harsh loud whisper. Sweet thing?

He had her in his arms now pressed up against the hard edge of one of the filing cabinets. One of his hands was snaking up her thigh and going under her skirt so slowly it gave her goose bumps. It was night time but the office was well lit all except for that one corner. He was so huge compared to her and even though he was leaning over so that his head loomed just inches from hers, so close she could feel his breath tickling her cheek, his size intimidated her. She shuddered. The fear on her face wasn't pretend but real when his lips came even nearer to hers.

"What is the meaning of this? Unhand my secretary you brigand!"

Saved by Charles. She rolled her eyes then quickly closed them as she hugged herself tight. She would have sworn he was going to harm her, maybe even rape her. A sudden crash made her open her eyes. Charles had the upper hand over the taller man which made her almost giggle though she quickly covered her mouth and tried to look frightened. They rolled around on the floor until the lights came on suddenly and Lilandra, standing in the doorway screamed then the man leapt up and raced past Lilandra and out the door.

"It was a mistake, a misunderstanding I'm sorry Ororo you're still the most beautiful woman in the world to me!" – was his farewell.

One would have thought there should have been applause but instead the camera crew started to pack up for the night talking quietly amongst themselves. How she let Lilandra talk her into it she didn't know but X Woman, Lilandra's brilliant suggestion for the name of the series, debuted with a 2.8/9 share in the metered markets, actually better than its lead-in much to Ororo's astonishment. The show came on after another reality show about different kinds of people trapped in bizarre isolation situations, something really, really strange – she hadn't even known it existed before. She'd never cared for reality shows but the channels were full of them she'd found. Who watched these things?

Although when she sat down with a bowl of microwave popcorn and a soda one night checking out the competition she found several hours had passed while she'd been immersed in the life of Hulk Hogan. And who was he? She couldn't remember but the name, the look, all combined it was very familiar as if she'd seen him before, maybe when she was growing up as a kid. He was interesting with a nice body and his daughter sang well enough but it was the animals that had her sitting on the edge of her couch yelling at the TV. Neighbor's trying to force them to get rid of their beloved rooster! Shame on them. She wondered if the few people watching her show ever rooted for her the way she had for those little dogs.

Reality TV was more and less than she'd imagined it was but she also realized if you turned on a show and made the mistake of looking at the screen it would be days before you were able to turn it off and venture out into the real world. After all, which one of those desperate women was Flava Flav going to choose and how could you not watch to see if Whitney and Bobby were really together for love or bucks or something worse like shared flatulence humor when there was a marathon for those shows always running? She glanced around the office after this thought as if the people milling around could read her thoughts.

That was telling, to some degree. Here she was in her own reality series and she felt as disgusted as she had while watching some of those other shows. What was up with that girl with the perky nipples anyway? She shivered. Things had been a lot simpler before she'd taken this job. Now she was Lilandra's and Charles' bread and butter, the two models they had started out with were now just a drop in the bucket thanks to her show. Good looking people streamed in from the moment they opened shop nowadays. They'd had to change their hours in order to shoot the show. Lilandra was particularly insistent that no one prettier be on set while they filmed, didn't want them stealing her and Ororo's glory.

The good looking giant who'd felt her up? A model looking for a chance to act which explained his very bad acting. Reenacting all the things that had happened between her and the delivery guys with some creative enhancements from Lilandra's vivid imagination was so cheesy but the network loved it. She wondered how anyone would believe this was real. And yes she felt awful for doing the show. They were clearly cheating the audience whether it looked like a live show or not. It didn't matter that some of it had happened more or less the way it was depicted or that the audience wasn't really going to find out otherwise as Lilandra had insisted, what mattered was what they were doing was wrong.

When she'd watched the first show she'd felt ill. It was accurate enough, Lilandra's dialogue had been nixed thankfully, and they gave tidbits about restraining orders and warnings about abuse and how to protect yourself at the end of the show but some how it didn't feel right.

"All women need to know how to defend themselves, Ororo," Lilandra had gushed. "You lived through it but how many other's don't? Now they can learn what not to do."

"Everything I did."

"Well, he was studly. Even I was taken with him in the beginning. He wore those pants so well, so tight."

Ororo remembered. She remembered everything and it made her think he hadn't really acted like a stalker except that one time when he ran away after she sprayed him but maybe he'd run because she'd sprayed him. But then again who would run into traffic like that if you weren't guilty? She supposed anyone who had been sprayed with pepper spray and couldn't see clearly with pepper spray in their eyes as they were trying to get away from the crazy lady who'd sprayed them in the first place. None of it made much sense. She felt as if she'd made a very bad mistake.

**xox**

When he saw the latest reality TV show he couldn't believe it. He was in a bar a few blocks away from the agency drinking with some co-workers – he never went on Seventh any more if he could help it – and they were surfing channels looking for a game the majority wanted to watch. They'd skipped on to the next channel after a few seconds of ogling the woman with the big breast and behind to match with the long bleached white hair, they'd briefly debated the hair – real or weave? He'd asked them to turn back to the channel sure it was the woman from X. They wouldn't. He didn't want trouble. He was on first name basis with the police now, especially that one who liked to feel him up. She'd come by his apartment claiming she wanted to hear his side of it that night he'd gotten punched in the nose. What a joke, she'd just wanted to grope him leaving him feeling oddly dirty afterwards. How did things get so twisted?

He was sick of women. Well, he wasn't sick enough of them to switch sides but still – enough was enough. She was going to be famous and rich while he was living off his savings. He'd loved that job. She hadn't even tried to understand what he was saying, firing off her questions one after the other like a wannabe lawyer. He'd said he was sorry – hadn't he? Well, maybe not in so many words though he would've if she had known enough to shut the hell up. Yeah, she was a bitch. Bitch with a good right hook too.

**xox**

It was nerve racking, this false celebrity. When she went into the bar across the street, always looking to see who was there first, they hailed her as if she were a goddess with Lilandra and Charles as her pimps. It was discomforting. She took to wearing hats.

Sitting at a bar with a scarf covering her white eyebrows and hair and a hat sitting on top of that she nursed a strong drink. No one had recognized her and Lilandra and Charles were trying to work out a more exciting ending than the truth for the first season. They were hoping to get picked up next season and couldn't say the stalker had just up and disappeared. Neither of them noticed Logan come in.

Yes, yes, he admitted it freely this time – he had been following her again. No, he was still not a legitimate stalker and after all what made you a legitimate stalker? Okay maybe he was a stalker but only in a good way. There are always shades of gray. But seeing her become famous and rich was too much. It irked him to no end. Not only that but he knew guys would be hitting on her left and right and she might still be stupid enough to walk home alone. He was angry with her and himself for being jealous and still wanting to make sure she was okay. Yes, he knew he should go on with his life or even pack up and move back to Canada where he was from and forget the hell she'd put him through but he couldn't.

She had everything now and he didn't even have his job. He wished he had some way to disguise himself, could make himself taller at least. Wearing a hat was easy enough though his favorite Stetson stood out in a crowd like this, but his beard grew back so quickly it was more like a noon showdown instead of the usual five o'clock shadow.

It was a surprise to see her drinking and talking like nothing had changed. Everything _had_ changed for her as well as him, for the better for her, for the worse for him. He wanted to bring her down.

"Whoa, hold up, bub," he mumbled under his breath realizing he was starting to sound very much like a stalker.

One last look he decided. One last look and then he'd go and never seek her out again. She was hiding her face when people went by he noticed. She didn't look happy with her sudden fame. She looked like she wanted to be any where but there but that was ridiculous. Wasn't it? Famous and rich was all anyone ever wanted. She really was stupid.

**xox**

Sometimes she felt like crying. Her fifteen minutes of fame, well her season of fame, was a nightmare. She couldn't go anywhere without having her face half covered with a scarf and a hat shading her eyes when inside and or sunglasses when outside. She was thankful she wasn't a movie star because she couldn't handle that. The paparazzi were all over her wherever she went, whenever she ventured out and she was only a minor celebrity of the moment. And now someone had leaked that the show wasn't really a reality show but something staged. They wouldn't stop badgering her, haunting her every move.

"Let them prove it!" Lilandra had shouted. "It happened to you, Ororo. It was truly your odyssey, your ordeal."

And to the press – "X-Woman is the true story of our model's life, of a stalkee's real life ordeal. We have a dedicated police officer who will vouch for us; she assisted us in getting this order of restraint which completely validates us. We're indignant that people would call this a farce, staged indeed!

Ororo has suffered, suffered as much as Charles and I have. You do not know how difficult it has been confronting this man. Charles has the bruises to show for it! And surely you must understand it is a difficult subject for us but we wish to help millions of women who suffer just as Ororo does. Stop the stalkers!" She ended with fist raised high above her head. There was a general round of applause from the gullible.

Her new catch phrase "stop the stalkers" caught on. Stop the stalkers people would say, raising their own fist whenever they saw the two of them together. Ororo wished they were going after worse criminals. For some time now she'd begun to feel Logan wasn't a criminal at all. No, if anyone was guilty it was her, she was the criminal. Maybe all he had wanted was to get to know her. She still didn't know his name; there had been no restraining order. Instead they'd gotten one for the model playing the part of stalker. She wouldn't let Lilandra get one for the real so called stalker because after their talk she was sure he wasn't one at all.

**xox**

When the receptionist for the new delivering company he was with had told him a woman was waiting for him in the front office he'd thought it was a practical joke, something to mess with the newbie but there she was, the star herself in the flesh. How the hell had she found him?

"Hi, I'm Ororo."

He thought he was dreaming and smiled. She held her hand out and he woke up.

"I know I'm Logan."

"I know."

"How did you find me?"

"I have connections now."

And that was supposed to mean what exactly? Was she bragging?

"You're . . ." he paused, started to reach out and take hold of her hand but stopped, his hand dangling in the air between them.

"You weren't stalking me _were_ you?" she asked needing to know the answer.

The way he looked at her and then shook his head resolutely told her she'd been right to come. She took one of his hands in both of hers and held it. He looked down at their hands, his pale under his tan, hers golden brown and then looked back at her.

"I saw your show." He had. He'd been determined to find it and had spent all of a week looking for it. Not knowing her name hadn't made it easy. After seeing the show he knew he'd never forget it.

"Oh," Ororo said. Not good. Maybe she shouldn't have come.

"You should've hired the real deal."

"You're . . . not angry?"

"Angry at what? The show's so funny I can't stop watching it."

She was appalled and pulled her hand away. "Funny in a good way or a bad way?"

"Well, you need acting lessons and that friend of yours she needs some worse than you. She's way over the top and when the hell did that old man kick my ass?"

"It's . . ."

But he was laughing and she smiled, glad he was taking this so well.

"I'm gonna sue you for everything you're worth," he said when the laughter died.

He was serious and why not? It was fair in his opinion, all's fair in love and war and this was decidedly not love and most definitely war.

His hands grasped hers, his lips pressed tightly together as he studied her for a moment. She didn't try to pull away though she glanced at the receptionist briefly.

"It might be a funny show but its still libel," he said.

She should have been scared – terrified actually but she wasn't. She didn't know if it was because the show had opened her eyes to reality or if it was just plain idiocy. Had this man wanted to harm her before he would have, he'd had plenty of opportunities she told herself.

She leaned against him without realizing it. Logan met her half way and their lips met. There was nothing polite or meek about it. The kiss, too passionate, scared her and she started to pull away, her hands pushing against his chest but he caught her, pulled her closer, his arms tight around her. She moaned, he groaned. She pressed closer.

"Still going to sue me?" she asked with a smug smile when she'd caught her breath.

"Hell yes," he said and kissed her again.


	5. Part Five

**Shades of Gray – by Darlin **

**A/N – **Sorry for the delay but I went on vacation. I desperately needed the time off.

**Part Five**

**xox**

Fantasies were of no use to Ororo when she went to bed that night after her encounter with Logan that evening. Her ex-stalker, Logan, had made his threat then kissed her again so her body shook all over, released her and gone about his business. She'd been ashamed to look at the receptionist as she made a hasty exit; thankful she had her hair stuffed under her hat so she couldn't be recognized.

There wasn't going to be a show now. How could there be? She kept seeing Logan's face full of dark intensity. He wanted revenge. She was sure he was going to go through with it too. And of course he had every right. The story they were telling wasn't exactly accurate, so much more had been added to it to make it more exciting and entertaining than it really was. Compared to the show with its creepy encounters with the pseudo stalker she saw what had happened with the kid with the knobby knees and Logan were just stupid misunderstandings. How to tell Charles and Lilandra?

"You're looking tired. Goodness, Ororo you're going to need a lot of work today to get you looking up to par. Camera's off please. Whatever were you doing all night?"

"Not sleeping."

"Tut, tut, you know better, Ororo. You're our meat and potatoes. You must take better care of yourself. Look at those bags under your eyes. Alison should be able to camouflage the raccoon look but we can't have too many close-ups today. Where is that girl? Someone find her. Charles always wants his head powdered immediately upon arrival. All right people take a coffee break. Ororo, you may take an hour for lunch today, you'll have a power nap, that should help some – let's hope."

The four men that formed the camera crew sauntered off into the back leaving Ororo alone with Lilandra.

"Lilandra, we have a problem."

"You're very observant this morning. What, did you stay up all night watching television? The X Woman marathon they ran ended before midnight so you had plenty of time to sleep. And what on earth did you eat last night? You'll have to watch those late night snacks, you know this, every pound looks like ten on film and fifteen on your derriere. Suck your tummy in, there's a good girl."

"Lilandra we're going to be sued." Ororo said as she unconciously obeyed Lilandra. "The stalker – Logan told me he's going to sue us."

"Logan? Who is Logan?"

"Logan the one who – the delivery man."

Lilandra looked blank.

"The real stalker."

"Ah, the real one – short, scruffy, sexy stalker?"

"The very one."

"Oh, you'll have to sleep with him then."

"I'm not sleeping with him, Lilandra."

"Certainly that's all he wants. You must seduce him."

"I don't think he wants sex."

"All men want sex."

Ororo shook her head remembering the searing kisses and the determined look on his face when he'd left her.

"Why else would he be stalking you if he didn't want sex?"

"That's another thing, Lilandra I don't think he meant to stalk me."

"Of course they don't set out to stalk anyone, probably don't mean to at all, they just become obsessed and can't help themselves although of course I've no idea what might go through a stalker's head having never stalked anyone myself."

"Lilandra, he doesn't want sex, he wants revenge!"

"Give him a little and you'll find revenge will fly out the window."

"Lilandra!"

"It's either that or risk losing everything we've worked for. Do you want us to lose our business? Do you want to lose your job, your budding new career?"

"My budding new career as a _reality star_?" Ororo asked, incredulously.

"Well, it's certainly a step up from receptionist."

"Thanks a lot. You know I never wanted any of this, Lilandra. I was fine with being a simple receptionist. I shouldn't have let you talk me into doing the show."

"Regardless, you'll be broke. We'll be laughing stocks Charles and I."

"Maybe we deserve it."

"You're of no help whatsoever. Well, he'll have to prove his claims, I've documentation and I'm sure I can get video footage of his exploits. The day I let a short little disgruntled mutt get the better of me is the day I'm six feet under and unable to get my weekly pedicure. Fudge! I knew I shouldn't have listened to you, I'm going soft, I should have gone ahead with that restraining order. Call Matt straight away. If that little stalker wants a fight then I'll give him one he'll never forget!"

**xox**

A fight was really the last thing on Logan's mind. Unlike his "nemesis" Ororo, Logan had no problems sleeping. He smiled while he dreamed. A beautiful woman with long legs, plump lips soft and welcoming was walking towards him. Ah, he sighed in his sleep. Ororo Munroe was more than beautiful, she was his. He didn't even mind when he heard the wedding march play while he stood, naked in all his hairy glory, besides a man of the cloth under a flowery arbor watching her come down the aisle.

He woke with a start. No ghosts this time, friendly or otherwise but something much worse. The guests, all with Charles and Lilandra's faces, were looking at him with stony disapproval. He ran his hands over his face. As usual when he woke up his first thought was of Ororo – would he see her, did he dare?

He'd accepted the driving job with his new company specifically because they delivered bulk items to warehouses, an entirely different clientele. It was harder work but kept him in shape, it paid a little more but he worked longer hours. Not quite a fair trade off when he wouldn't get to see Ororo but then it did keep him free of her and her friend's insanity plus incarceration as it curbed the desire to stalk and thus be assaulted which led to more jail time. He missed his old job, wished he could go back. He had a good idea how he could too. It was bold but things had changed. He had the upper hand now. He knew what he had to do.

It was crowded when he arrived at X Agency. He hadn't thought about them filming for the show but he went in anyway. Lights, cameras and people were everywhere but he saw Ororo immediately. She looked as sexy as usual and a smile crept onto his face, however just as quickly his smile faded as he noticed a large burly blond guy hovering over her way too close. He recognized him from the show. He looked around in disgust. All of these people were getting rich off of him.

"I said leave me alone!" Ororo shouted.

The stalker/model actually growled, "Look, bitch I asked you a question – are you going to sign this or not?"

Logan rolled his eyes. When had he ever treated her like that?

"Aiiee! It's the stalker!" Lilandra screamed.

"Where? Where is the brigand? Don't worry, Lilandra I'm here – you're safe with me!" Charles cried as he came running out of his office. He was rolling up his sleeves preparing to trounce the pretend stalker when his eyes caught sight of Logan standing by the door holding a bunch of flowers in one hand.

"Oh dear, oh dear! Lilandra, you didn't say it was the _real_ stalker!" Charles squeaked out.

Lilandra quickly recovered while Charles slowly backed into his office, shaking his balled up fist at Logan as he retreated. She stepped in front of a camera and said,

"What Charles actually means is that this is the very first stalker we have had to deal with, you can see we're all terrified!"

The cameras kept rolling. The model/stalker saw they were improvising and stalked up to Logan grinning and ready to show off his acting skills.

"You better leave while the getting's good, runt."

Logan laughed and said, "Oh, that's cute."

Without a further word his left hand shot out so fast the model/stalker didn't have time to duck. A solid punch, it floored the taller man.

"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!" Ororo mumbled looking at the guy on the floor and then at Logan. She thought she could hear police sirens already.

"These are for you," Logan said, stepping over the man and holding out a small bouquet of yellow daisies. "Lunch?"

"Lunch?"

"You know, noon meal, eat, drink," he said and winked.

"You're asking me out?" she asked, surprised. Did he just wink at her or was that a nervous twitch?

"Oh no, no sir that will not do!" Lilandra said, "Ororo, you can not have luncheon with this stalker!"

"He's not a stalker, Lilandra!" Ororo replied.

"I don't care! You can not go off with this man! You _will_ not go with him! How would it look? Think, Ororo! Wait a minute – oh, dear are we still filming? No, no turn the cameras off _now_!"

Lights died and the cameras were turned off as ordered but the crew stood around curiously watching this real life drama play out. Surprisingly it was Charles who came to her defense. He peeked out of his office and said,

"Lilandra, Ororo will have a camera crew with her, let her go, she'll be perfectly safe." And to Logan he said, "Do you need funds? Ororo write a check out to him will you?"

"A check?" Lilandra cried. "Don't write anything, Ororo! Charles what are you thinking?"

Her partner motioned her to come closer.

"Lilandra, we need him on our payroll. Look around you; he'll certainly discover what we're up to but he's unlikely to bite the hand that pays him," Charles whispered.

"Charles, that's perfectly brilliant! You clever, clever boy. Of course, why I didn't think of that – but no matter I've another idea that should work just as brilliantly! Listen, if we can get hold of all the videos here and at the bar across the way and at Ororo's apartment building though the quality may be questionable I think we'd be able to edit them so we could tell the real stalker story, sort of a flashback with all that happened which would be the perfect lead in for the episode we're filming. Since he barged in so rudely it makes sense, the fans will want to know who he is. We could air it as a special episode right before this one – how Ororo overcame her first horrid ordeal, kissed and made up with one of her very first stalkers! Think of the ratings, Charles! And with real footage that smoking gun website will look ridculous with it's claims about the validity of the show!"

"Brilliant my love, simply brilliant!" And to Logan – "Touch one hair of the fair Ororo and I shall thrash you within in an inch of your life sir! Your brigandage is over, do you hear me?" He cleared his throat and said, under his breath to Lilandra, "Perhaps a thousand for now will do?"

"A paltry sum for the revenue we'll make in return," Lilandra replied and smiling she almost skipped back out to Ororo.

"Look, I don't want your money," Logan said.

Lilandra and Charles' faces fell.

"All right, everyone please leave while we clear up this . . . um, little matter," Lilandra said. "And someone help Victor up."

"How much do you want?" Charles asked once the crew had dragged Victor the model/stalker into the back. He was still speaking from his office door however it was almost closed completely assuring his safety only his head could be seen, bald pate shining.

". . . Huh?"

"Come on," Ororo said. She tossed the daisies onto her desk and took him by the hand and led him out.

"Get the camera crew after her now!" Charles bellowed.

"Everyone after them now!" Lilandra shouted as she hurried into the back.

**xox**

Now this was something new. Neither Ororo nor Logan spoke as they walked along the busy street. But when Ororo heard a shout she turned to look back. They were being followed.

"Come on!" she hissed as she grabbed hold of his hand again and sprinted off.

"What the hell?" Logan asked but he was being yanked along at a reckless speed. He dodged women, children, men, the elderly and dogs as Ororo pulled him on.

They were gasping for breath when they finally came to a stop thinking they'd lost them.

"This is crazy," Logan said.

"And they're probably filming every moment of this," Ororo said grabbing his hand again when she saw the crew gamely round the corner, lights and camera's clutched in their arms and hands as they dashed on in their attempt to catch up.

"Damn," Logan cursed. This wasn't exactly how he'd planned their first date. Annoyed he flagged a yellow cab and when one stopped he opened the door and nearly pushed her in.

"Wait!" Ororo shouted but he was already sliding in beside her forcing her to move over.

She had her hand on the door handle contemplating whether or not to slip out on the other side when the cab began to move, albeit slowly. Not good this, she thought, trapped with her would be stalker. She could jump from the car, maybe not get squashed by another yellow cab, she considered. Logan turned to her and stared.

"The people you work for are crazy," he said after a moment.

She nodded. There wasn't much use in disagreeing.

"So, I've been thinking," he said then paused.

She waited. He swallowed, ran the tip of his tongue over his lips.

"So, what time is it, Ororo?" he asked.

"Pardon me?"

"Time, you got the time for a man like me?"

"Uh . . ." She glanced at her watch, slightly confused. "Eleven fifteen."

He grinned and said, "Early yet."

". . . O . . . kay." She was seriously going over her escape options.

"I figure we get married this'll be something we can tell our kids."

"Kids?" She had no time to say more, he had her in his arms, his lips soft but sure against hers. Intriguingly she didn't mind at all. They were both panting when they came to their senses.

"There is no 'we'," she said, though weakly moving away from him.

"Aw come on, woman!" Logan groaned. He looked completely flummoxed and Ororo had to laugh at him.

What the hell, she thought and said, "We're crazy you know."

"I'm not gonna dispute that, darlin'."

They were silent again as the drove along. She wondered where they were going. He'd only told the driver to go and fast. She didn't really care. As long as there was a witness what did it matter? She had to berate herself for the thought but still, stalker or not a stalker? Just what _was_ he? And why did she feel so confused and yet so completely and stupidly attracted to him?

They got out not to long afterwards where he purchased two hotdogs from a nearby kiosk. He handed one to her,

"But I don't eat hotdogs," she said.

"No?"

So much for lunch, he thought as the took a bite. He bought a bag of baked chips and a bottle of water which he then handed to her. She wasn't so sure she liked the way he was taking charge. He wolfed down the dogs as if he was starving and she studied him. He wasn't handsome as much as attractive. Far too short for her but he was built so well it made her think of all the fantasies she'd had about him. Just what was she doing?

When he was finished eating he held her hand too tight. He looked too intense. Something within her wanted to give herself up to him without questioning but this was too much too soon and she pulled her hand loose.

"I can't do this." She shook her head. "This is crazy."

"I'll give you that."

"I . . ." She shook her head again then gave a sigh of relief when a taxi pulled up and the camera crew spilled out.

"Don't I have to sign a release or something?" he asked.

"Sign right here," a young man who appeared to be in charge said as he held out several sheets of papers and a pen.

**xox**

"You'll have to marry him. It solves all our problems that is if we can't get him to sign with the agency. If we can it doesn't matter but Matt says we must in order to avoid a nasty lawsuit. Marriage! Kids! Well, this stalker definitely has a plan," Lilandra finished, imagining bits and pieces of Ororo chopped up and placed neatly in little Tupperware containers in a freezer each piece labeled accordingly.

"I can't marry a perfect stranger, Lilandra."

"Oh, but is he that, dear? You've been cavorting around with him for nearly two months. Oh, that reminds me you must look at what we've been able to piece together with all the video footage we were able to find, it's a history of your romance."

"Romance?"

"Well, a history of your ordeal with your stalker. It comes out amazingly biased towards him in a good way though. He looks affable and confused at all the proper moments. I think perhaps we may have made a mistake."

"Oh, you do, do you?"

**xox**

He called before going to see her this time. Waiting for him she felt nervous and silly, like a teenage girl waiting to be asked to the prom. When he arrived at X Agency he was wearing blue jeans and a black T-shirt that showed off his well developed chest enough to make Ororo's heart skip a beat or two. Everyone was there – waiting.

"Where's Charles?" Lilandra asked.

"Oh, Charles isn't coming in today, he called and said he's ill," Ororo told her. "He wanted me to tell you if the 'brigand' – sorry," she said to Logan, "– comes in and starts anything to call him and he'll come as quickly as possible."

"Call him? Why calling 911 would be easier and certainly more successful."

"He, um, mentioned that. He said you should call 911 if he can't get here in time but really, Lilandra everything will be fine."

Lilandra rolled her eyes. She walked over to Ororo ignoring Logan and sat down on the receptionists desk.

"We'll have to get rid of the stalker theme now and phase Victor out," she said. "I've put a slightly different spin on the special episode we're planning to air. It rather clears up the question of whether your stalker's really a stalker or not. And for the record, you're not a stalker are you sir?"

Logan looked at her thoroughly exasperated.

"Did I mention my plan to sue you for every penny you have lady?"

"We'll file bankruptcy if you do and you'll get nothing besides if you are a stalker it will come out, my lawyer's running a background check on you now. Ororo, remind me we need his fingerprints by the end of the day. Now where was I, oh yes, you'll have to trounce Victor a few times, the audience loves violence and blood. This will solve the stalker problem and make the audience cheer for you, there are many shades of gray after all," she said giving him a sidelong glance still not quite sure he wasn't a stalker, he was certainly impudent enough to be one.

"Focus groups show that the viewers really like you, Ororo," she continued, "There are whole websites devoted to you, not so much the show, but we can actually use that to our advantage. Some people seem to think your breast are too large, they're divided as to whether you've had implants are not, you haven't have you dear? I thought not. Oh, and they love your derriere, the men especially. Half the women wish they had it as well as your lips – they especially love your lips, some say they're better than Angelina's and of course they are. No one's brought up botox yet. You haven't done that have – no, I was sure you hadn't.

"Now, it's the hair that gets the most discussion on the Internet. Apparently eighty percent like it though about ninety percent aren't sure what to make of it. Is it real, are they extensions? Some think you're quite old because of the hair and you've just had a lot of plastic surgery which is why you look so youthful, think Dianah Carroll, who by the way looks fabulous - I'm so envious, some think you're prematurely gray like Heloise. It's all quite fascinating. I've been thinking of a way to show whether it's real or not, what about a bikini wax dear? Imagine being waxed live on television! It would be fabulous and I'm sure we'd get suberb ratings for that episode. Is she or isn't she a true blonde?" Lilandra laughed.

"I'd watch that," Logan commented.

"You wish. No way am I doing that!"

"Darling's no squabbling now; you don't want me to call the police. Surely you've both had enough of that."

"You can say that again," Logan and Ororo murmured in unison.

They looked at each other. Both burst out laughing.

"Can't we lose these cameras for a minute?" he asked, looking around at all the staring faces around them.

"I'm under contract, so are you now," Ororo said.

"Signed sealed and delivered early this morning," Lilandra reminded him with a smirk.

"Right."

It was good money. Why should they be the only ones to get rich off of all that had happened? Besides, it didn't interfere with his other job, he'd been able to go back to his first job which he loved and they were excited about the exposure, plus the benefits to being in the X-Woman reality show were great when you considered he'd be filming all day with Ororo. Why not go along with them? It was a lot easier, and cheaper, than suing. He kissed her lightly on the lips.

"Stop that," Lilandra said, "you'll ruin her makeup. Where is that makeup girl? Someone find Alison, Ororo needs a touch up and stalker number one needs eyeliner."

"What? Whoa, wait a minute nobody said anything about makeup!"

"It's in your contract."

"I don't do makeup, lady."

"You will if I deem it necessary and maybe a little padding in . . . um, certain areas too."

"Look lady . . ."

"Call me Lilandra. And I'll have you know as Lilandra I'm the queen bee here which means I'm in charge, what I say goes."

"You'll get to like her, really," Ororo whispered when Lilandra got up.

"So, when will you marry me?" Logan replied, Lilandra forgotten.

"You never asked me."

"I'm asking now."

"This is crazy."

"But think, dear it could be the climax of the show then we could do a newlywed show - think Jessica not Britney," Lilandra piped in.

"That's not all that's gonna climax," Logan whispered in Ororo's ear.

"Can you say that on television?"

"Does it matter?"

"Oh, this could be fun," Ororo laughed.

"Count on it," Logan assured her.

"So . . . how many will we have?"

"Huh?"

"Kids. You know, if . . . we . . ."

"We will."

"You think?"

"I know."

"Hmm." She was beginning to like his take charge attitude. It was quite the turn on.

"One boy at least and a girl who'll look exactly like you."

"That's sweet."

"So, that's a yes?"

"Hmm. Yes, yes I think it is."

**- Finis -**


End file.
